Kids are, in fact, pretty wonderful.

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But I took Sophie and Haley out to Madtown Twisters — a kid’s gymnasium on Old Sauk Rd. — today, and really had an insane amount of fun with them. We’ve been so busy lately, and running around so much, that I haven’t gotten much of a chance to just talk to them or play with them. And it’s easy, when you’re busy being busy, to forget why kids are so incredibly special; you start resenting them for taking up your time and attention, for making your childless friends not want to hang out with you and for being the wrong age to play with the children of your friends with children. And that’s a shame, because one of the things you’ll hear parents always say — sometimes in a monotone, as if they’re having to convince themselves of it — is that having kids is one of the best things they’ve ever done.

That’s the funny thing. We say it robotically because sometimes we do have to convince ourselves of it, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

Last night, Sophie complained to me of her bad dreams, cuddled up in my arms, and explained — when I tried to tell her my old “dream control” tricks — that since she’s never in her dreams, she couldn’t make herself fly or anything. So instead I gave her a super-special magic kiss that would keep all the bad dreams away, and indeed it appeared to work. (Note that we had to tuck all her stuffed animals in and give them special kisses, too, just in case.)

And today, at the gym, she swung on the rope and jumped in the foam pit and did a flip on the trampoline, all things that she hasn’t been brave enough to do before. She talked one girl into being nicer to another girl, reminded people to be gentle with her sister, and was generally an angel. Total strangers asked me how I’d taught her to be so polite, and I answered them as if I actually had some trick, as if she normally were polite — because, hey, if some random phase of the moon has turned my daughter into a perfect child, d**n me if I don’t take some credit for it.

As I watched her totter down the balance beam — without any of Daddy’s help — and gently help Haley over one of the foam obstacles in the baby area, tears stung my eyes a bit because, for God’s sake, they’re both so freakin’ beautiful. (I give their mother most of the credit for this one, but I figure my excellent taste in women therefore played a small role.) I don’t know why this makes me proud, given that I’ve been flying by the seat of my pants for the duration of this whole fatherhood thing and am (in all honesty) pretty confident that while I’m good at passing on intellectual curiosity, I’m terrible at building old-fashioned “character” or “discipline.” But that doesn’t stop me from looking at my kids now and then and thinking, as I tuck my thumbs into imaginary suspenders, “Yeah. I made those.”